


Pushing the Envelope

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: Show Me Your Teeth [6]
Category: Inception (2010), White Collar
Genre: Drugged Sex, F/M, Multi, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-06
Updated: 2011-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-22 07:23:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was a surefire way to piss off both Eames and Arthur at the same time, this current job was it.</p><p>Or, Elizabeth Burke hires the trio to extract secrets from Neal Caffrey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushing the Envelope

If there was a surefire way to piss off both Eames and Arthur at the same time, this current job was it.

Their employer for this particular job was one Elizabeth Burke; apparently she thought something was odd about Neal Caffrey, who was working with her husband. Peter Burke was convinced that he knew Neal inside and out, and was secure in the knowledge that he could pull whatever strings he could at the FBI to control the former art thief. Elizabeth wasn't sure about that, and she was one that trusted her instincts implicitly. That had allowed her to marry Peter after a relatively short courtship and it was what allowed her to trust Neal and Mozzie. There was something off about those two, moreso Neal. It was as if there was something warring in him, something he was hiding but wanted to desperately to say. He had acted that way before, and it had led to a whole world of hurt that Elizabeth wouldn't elaborate on.

Ariadne suspected that she was more than half in love with Neal herself, though Eames stated that he couldn't smell any other man on Elizabeth but her husband. Arthur pretended not to hear the comment.

There wasn't going to be a good way to get Neal under with a PASIV through the usual channels; his landlady was more than aware of shady deals and people, and would be able to tell that there was something wrong right off the bat if they simply drugged him. Neal was tracked by federal marshals and couldn't leave his radius unless it was with Peter Burke's express permission or to go to his home. That raised Eames' eyebrows, but he remained silent this time.

Separately, Ariadne figured the easiest way to get to Neal was through his ego. He was a romantic at heart, often using his charm to superficially flirt. "Rather like you," Ariadne told Eames brightly, which didn't make him feel good _at all._ Arthur glowered at Ariadne and the files on Neal Caffrey equally, sometimes muttering to himself about how lotharios always seemed to be coming out of the woodwork.

Still, it was the cleanest way to get to him within his radius. Between Eames and Arthur's skills, Ariadne became Lara Higgins, an art smuggler looking for a local fence or two now that it wasn't safe for her in Atlanta. To Arthur's surprise, she could do a Southern drawl with little difficulty. "I wonder what else that tongue does?" Eames teased, reaching for her.

Hair dyed black, Ariadne danced out of his reach. By the flare of his nose, she could tell that he could smell her and it was turning him on. "Oh, there's still tricks up my sleeve, Eames. Just you wait until I'm ready to show you."

They had to wait until they got a delivery from Yusuf, a compound that could be slipped into any drink and would lower inhibitions for a time before the sedative effects overwhelmed the subject ingesting it. Eames trained Ariadne with sugar, and once she could slip extra sugar into Arthur's tea unnoticed, he declared her ready. And then she was Lara, meeting Neal through a mutual acquaintance that Mozzie couldn't discount. "I haven't heard of you," Neal told her, flashing her an impish smile. He had Eames' charm and Arthur's love of tailored suits, which was a dangerous combination. In addition, his smile could turn dazzling in an instant and he had dimples just like Arthur did.

This man was _devastating_ and just her type.

Lara smiled graciously at him. "You're not supposed to have heard of me. At least, not this name."

He grinned in response and inclined his head slightly. He tugged at the bright floral scarf at her throat, the one concession to her actual identity. "This is a rather idiosyncratic item. It makes you stand out in a crowd."

Lara leaned back slightly in her seat at the bar, lips curling in a seductive smile. "I prefer to think it confers taste. How else can I assure people I have quality items if they can't actually see them in person?"

Neal leaned in slightly. "Didn't anyone tell you that you can only judge things by seeing them?"

She let her hand fall onto his thigh, high up and close to his hip, her fingers tantalizingly close to his groin but not touching. "Oh, there are plenty of things you can judge without seeing them up close and personal." Her voice was low and husky, a throaty sound that promised at sex guaranteed to leave him boneless and aching.

There was a flicker in his eyes, something like uncertainty. It more closely resembled the look in Arthur's eyes before he followed her into the PASIV, before he let go of his reservations by saying it was simply a dream and not real. There was someone else there, though Elizabeth had stated he was single. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Neal?" she asked, letting her eyes travel across his body. She let her appreciation show, and that seemed to give Neal pause.

"No. I suppose I thought that this was just a business transaction."

"Well..." She flashed him a flirty smile. "Who's to say this can't be of mutual benefit?"

Neal smiled, looking more suave and in control. He'd decided, then. "Do you have a place?"

"A hotel room. Nothing flashy, I'm afraid." She licked her lips and smiled, especially when his eyes tracked the movement of her tongue. "But it serves its purpose. You might like it."

"Do you always get what you want?" he asked with a slow smile, pulling her forward by her scarf. Their mouths were mere inches apart. "Not everyone does."

"I don't either," she said, lips quirking into a smile. "But maybe in this, we can both get what we want?"

Neal slid his hands beneath the scarf, touching her bare skin. "And what do you want, Lara?"

"Care to show a girl a good time?" she asked, leaning into his touch a little and smiling at him. She smiled at him as if he was Eames or Arthur, as if she knew a delicious secret that they didn't and she would tell them if only they behaved nicely. That seemed to do the trick, and Neal allowed her to bring him to her hotel. They had gotten two rooms adjoining each other, and she knew that her men would be waiting for her to open the connecting door. Ariadne kissed him right away, feeling as though it was Arthur's mouth with Eames' attitude kissing her.

Ariadne wasn't willing to cross the line, even if Lara would have. He accepted the drink she offered him with a smile, and the tasteless compound Yusuf had sent them dissolved perfectly into the drink. She sipped at her own, eyes dancing as she took in the sleek lines of his shoulders once he took off his jacket. He looked at home in the hotel room, perfectly at ease despite not really knowing Lara or being able to trust her. It had to be working. "So what's the diciest thing you've ever sold?" she asked, putting her drink aside. She leaned in and began nibbling on his earlobe.

"Is this your idea of pillow talk?" he asked, eyebrow lofted and lips quirked.

"Isn't it yours?" she teased, pressing her chest up against his. "Mmm. Very nice," she purred, spreading his hands over her chest. "Perhaps I should try to sell you? You are a complete work of art."

Neal laughed, amused. "You are a piece of work, aren't you?" he asked rhetorically.

She undid his tie and tossed it behind her before attacking the buttons on his shirt. "Perhaps," she said, curling her lips into a smile. "Isn't that a good thing?"

Whatever Neal was going to say was cut off when Ariadne pressed her mouth to his chest and started sucking. When his hands pulled at her blouse and slipped beneath the waistband of her skirt, she knew for sure that the compound had kicked in. Yusuf hadn't been kidding when he said it was fast acting. She pushed his shirt back and he took it off. Neal started undoing his belt and Ariadne got him naked before pushing him down on the bed. "You still haven't answered my question," she taunted, unwinding her scarf from her neck. She wound it around his eyes, letting him caress her through her blouse.

Neal laughed. "Well, there were a lot of things that I found out about recently. I wasn't in on the haul, but since it was done by someone I know, he decided to cut me in on it. It might not be safe to sell them, though, not without getting caught." There was a lost tone in his voice, something that had Ariadne frowning, glad he couldn't see it.

"You haven't told many people about this, have you?"

"I'm not supposed to know it exists." He rubbed her nipples through her blouse and bra, gratified when he heard her moan of pleasure. "And I don't know what to do with it." He grinned when her hands traveled down his chest. "What about you?"

"Oh, there was a Renoir that actually was a fake. My client didn't know that," Ariadne said, bending down to run her tongue along his collarbone. "So I was actually very lucky." She smiled against his chest and let her hand travel down his abdomen. Neal made a soft sound, and she licked the skin. "I take it you like that?"

"You are a very dangerous lady, Lara."

"To some, maybe," she drawled, closing her hand over his growing erection.

"What about me?" he asked, arching into her touch. His hand dipped down to caress the curve of her rear through her clothes. "You're not undressed yet."

There was a slight slurring to his words, something that she was looking for. Ariadne let her hand slide over him, palm growing moist with the fluid beginning to leak from his cock. "You're safe from me, Neal," Ariadne murmured, running her tongue along his chest. It was a very nice chest, and this part wasn't exactly a hardship. "Does this feel good?" she asked, hearing him groan.

"Y-yeah. M-more," he ground out, his hand tightening on her ass. "I wanna be inside you. I want to start hard and fast, then slow down and take my time with you. I never get enough time..."

Ariadne felt sorry for him, for the lost sound that was back in his voice. She could see now why Elizabeth was hoping they wouldn't find anything to hang him with, why she would try a route like this rather than let Peter dig around in his life any further. As she moved to kiss Neal, she pumped her hand hard and fast over him, tips of her fingers stroking his balls on her down stroke. "This will give us enough time," she murmured, moving to kiss his jaw. "This will get you ready for later, I promise."

Neal hung onto her and kissed her as if his life depended on it, hips jerking against her hand. He let out a groan as he came, spilling over her hand an abdomen before collapsing back down on the bed. "That was embarrassingly quick," he muttered, voice getting even more slurred. His jaw was slack, and he seemed to be falling asleep.

"Don't worry, Neal," she murmured, giving him a few strokes to help him come down from the orgasm. "I'll take care of you."

By the time she finished cleaning him up, he was deeply asleep. She let in Eames and Arthur, ignoring their frowns. "I only jerked him off," she hissed angrily when Eames hovered over her, almost intimidatingly. "I didn't sleep with him."

"Bad enough it went that far," he growled, then turned toward Neal. He seemed to take perverse pleasure in putting the line in, and Arthur merely shot Ariadne a look that meant they were all in for a discussion later.

The two men went under with Neal, and Ariadne was left to watch over them. She untied her scarf from Neal's face and traced the lines of his cheek and jaw. He looked innocent in his sleep, making her almost sorry they were doing this. Whatever Eames and Arthur found, they would take to Elizabeth Burke, and then she would have to decide what to do with it. That Neal didn't even know what to do with his own secrets had to be a point in his favor. He was too conflicted, torn between what he wanted and didn't think he could have.

She knew the feeling very well by now.

Ariadne sat at the foot of the bed, watching over the three sleeping men. She would go home with two of them, and somehow they would figure out what would come next. Unlike Neal, she wasn't conflicted in the least about what she wanted.

***

When Neal woke, he was alone in an immaculate hotel room. There was the scarf on the bedside table and a note beneath it. His head hurt and he didn't actually remember very much, which wasn't like him at all. The writing was in a slanted, feminine hand he didn't recognize. _Neal, sorry I couldn't stay. It turns out that NYC isn't safe for me after all. I hope everything works out for you. Take care, Lara._

It didn't quite hurt the way he thought it might, and Neal picked up the scarf she had left behind. For some reason, it just made him infinitely sad. He didn't want to be on the run anymore, didn't want to hide. He never got enough time for what he wanted, but he didn't know how to get it. Somehow, he had never learned that trick.

Neal tucked the scarf into the pocket of his suit jacket as he got dressed. He left the room without a backward glance.


End file.
